Moondance of Stonewylde (16 page)

‘Is she ready then?’ asked Magus brusquely, walking in with a cursory knock.

‘Yes, she’s waiting in her bedroom,’ said Miranda, jumping up. ‘Magus, I—’

‘Not now, Miranda. I must get on. She’s eaten and she’s rested?’

‘Yes. But she insisted on having a bath, and—’

‘That’s fine. I’ll take her down the stairs in her room and I’ll bring her back that way too, so as not to disturb you. Don’t wait up, Miranda. I really don’t want to see you tonight when I get back.’

Her face crumpled.

‘I’m sorry, Miranda – you know I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I meant you mustn’t wait up when you should be sleeping.’

‘But Magus, I really don’t—’

‘I absolutely insist. We must think of the baby. I’ll come and see you first thing in the morning, I promise.’

‘But I’m Sylvie’s mother and I should—’

‘The whole point is I’m taking this anxiety away from you. Remember you’re
my
child’s mother too. If Sylvie’s tired when we get back, it’s best you’re not around worrying and upsetting yourself. All she needs is sleep, and I’m more than capable of making sure she’s comfortable. So no fussing, please!’

‘But Magus, I’d hoped—’

‘Don’t you trust me to take care of Sylvie?’

‘Of course! I just wanted to spend some time with you, that’s all. I was hoping we—’

‘I’ve already told you, I’ll come and see you tomorrow morning. Alright?’

‘Yes, alright. I’m sorry.’

‘No need to be.’

He pecked her on the cheek, ignoring her crestfallen face and drooping shoulders, and strode into Sylvie’s bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Sylvie still sat in the chair gazing out of the window, her arms and legs bare, the soft shimmering dress falling from the narrow silver straps over her shoulders. Her freshly washed hair hung like a curtain of silk around her face and down her back. She turned to him, her eyes enormous in her pointed face.

‘I want to go to Mooncliffe and dance on the moon stone for you.’

‘Good girl, Sylvie!’ he chuckled softly, keeping his voice low. ‘We’re going up there now and you can dance for me all night if you want.’

He took her hand in his and led her to the little arched doorway. He lifted the latch and they climbed down the steep staircase. The outside door opened easily and they were out in the glorious evening, where the late July sun had begun its descent. Birds sang in the soft golden light as Clip stepped out from behind some trees to join them. Miranda watched in silence from the window above, the ache in her throat almost unbearable. Her beautiful daughter looked like a delicate silver flower fairy flanked by the two tall men. Their three blond heads disappeared round the corner of the building and Miranda turned away, trying to swallow her pain and disappointment.

‘How are you this evening, Sylvie?’ asked Clip.

‘I want to dance up at Mooncliffe,’ she replied, fixing her moonstone gaze on his. She seemed to be in another world,
her eyes strange and face expressionless. She moved like an automaton.

‘We want you to dance at Mooncliffe too,’ he smiled. Looking over her head at Magus, he winked. ‘Still working, then.’

‘Certainly is,’ Magus replied.

‘I’ll reinforce it again later on if necessary. I don’t want her becoming upset, which can’t be good for her. Much better to do this peacefully,’ said Clip. ‘She’s so receptive and easy to command, and very obedient once it’s in her subconscious.’

‘Strange, seeing as how spirited she is normally.’

‘That’s her personality and conscious mind and something entirely different. But this is all linked to her magic, her ability to pick up signs and forces. You said you thought she had the sight, and that’s why I can get her to do anything I want. She’s incredibly compliant and open to suggestion.’

‘Could be useful,’ murmured Magus. ‘I think I’ll carry her up there. I want her as fresh as possible.’

He scooped Sylvie into his arms and she lay quietly against his chest, staring up at the sky.

‘So tell me what happened at Quarrycleave,’ said Clip as they walked along a back lane to where the cliff path began. ‘I gather there was some kind of accident today?’

‘It was awful!’ said Magus. ‘Jackdaw phoned down from the Gatehouse this morning in a panic. They’d been blasting and there was an unexpected rock-fall. A whole section came down that shouldn’t have. Don’t know if it was that bloody Portlander’s fault or not – maybe just bad luck – but several of the men were trapped.’

‘That’s terrible. Was everyone alright?’

Magus shook his head, his face dark.

‘No. We got a couple out and they were a bit mangled but alive. But three of them were buried – totally crushed. Not a hope in hell. That Portlander had disappeared by the time I arrived. Taken his truck and gone. The other men were hysterical. You know how emotional these foreigners can be.’

‘Understandably so, given the circumstances. They must’ve been terrified.’

‘But you should have seen them! Screaming and sobbing, refusing to set foot in the quarry again – and that’s from men who weren’t involved in the accident. Anyway, we dealt with the injuries as best we could and I didn’t want Hazel involved for obvious reasons. Jackdaw’s taken the minibus and got them all off the estate. He’ll have dumped them in Dover by now, back where he found them.’

‘What about the men who were buried?’

‘They’re still buried. They’re not going anywhere, so they’re best left where they are, under a ton of rubble.’

‘Sol! I don’t believe it! You can’t just leave their bodies there!’

‘The worst of it is I’ll have to shut the quarry up again, for the time being at least. And just when it was going so well. It’s a bloody nuisance.’

‘Sol, that completely heartless, and if—’

‘
It wants lives
.’

They both stared at Sylvie. She gazed up at the skies, her eyes faraway, her voice sing-song.

‘What?’

‘It’s hungry,’ she whispered. ‘It wants more lives. Now you’ve fed it there’ll be no end. It will not be satisfied.’

‘What is she on about?’

‘I know what she’s talking about,’ said Clip quietly. ‘I’ve felt it too. It’s the beast that stalks.’

‘Oh please! Come on, Clip! That’s just superstitious Village rubbish!’

In his arms, Sylvie shuddered. Even in her strange state she recalled the despair and the lure of whatever it was that walked the stone labyrinth at Quarrycleave. Those men had been crushed to death to feed its hunger. No saviour, no owl or raven to turn them away from the jaws of death. And if he’d stayed there as Magus and Jackdaw had wanted, Yul would now be trapped beneath a ton of rubble too.

Yul sat up in a tree in the woods. He still clung to the tiny ray of hope that Sylvie would come skipping up the path, her eyes strange and faraway, her body taut with the imminent rising of the moon. But his heart was heavy. He knew she wasn’t coming tonight, and tried not to imagine her with Magus going up the path to Mooncliffe. It wasn’t just jealousy. She’d insisted that she loved to dance on the great round stone, and yet he knew what he’d seen that night in June. She’d stood as if frozen until her legs gave way beneath her, nothing like her joyous dancing with the hares. And she’d been absolutely silent, not singing her strange, celestial music. Why did she prefer that to being with him at the Hare Stone? How had Magus persuaded her?

Up at Mooncliffe the sun was still visible, low over the hills. The great round stone glittered in the rosy light, all the tiny crystals within it picking up the dying sun’s rays. It was a breath-taking sight, almost unreal. Clip stopped dead, gazing in wonder at the shimmering pink stone and its backdrop of silken water.

‘Come on!’ barked Magus, bumping into him and stumbling. ‘No time for dreaming now – we’ve got work to do here.’

He sat Sylvie down on the grass facing the sun. She was passive and unresponsive, the antithesis of her normal behaviour so close to moonrise. Clip looked down at her.

‘So how are going to do this?’ he asked. ‘Put Sylvie on the stone before the moon rises or what?’

‘Yes I think so,’ replied Magus. ‘Last time she danced for ages on the grass. She must’ve wasted so much of the energy doing that. This time I want all of it fed into the stone, so there’ll be no dancing around. Once she’s on the stone she can’t escape and we’ll keep her there as long as we can.’

‘Alright, but we must be careful, Sol. She doesn’t look strong and we mustn’t hurt her.’

‘It won’t hurt her – how could it? It may tire her a bit, but she can sleep for a week afterwards so there’ll be no permanent damage. Don’t go soft on me, Clip. You know how good that moon energy feels. We need as much of it as possible, and we’re
still learning how to get the best out of Sylvie. See the stone eggs I’ve had made?’

He showed Clip the chest full of the smooth, carved ovoids.

‘Sacred Mother, how many have you got there?’ exclaimed Clip. ‘She can’t possibly charge up all of those too!’

‘There are twenty-eight, one for each day of the month,’ said Magus. ‘And she may be able to charge them all – we just don’t know. Better to have too many than too few.’

‘How will she charge them?’

‘I thought perhaps put one in each hand? Or maybe we could lay her flat on the rock and place the stones on top of her? We’d get more done that way. I don’t know, Clip. When the time comes we’ll see what works best.’

‘Look, she’s standing up.’

The sun was sliding down behind the hills. The sky was beautiful, the few clouds on the horizon turning blood red and the higher ones a deep purple. Sylvie was washed in the pink light, her hair fanning slightly about her in the soft breeze as she watched the sun disappear. When it had gone she closed her eyes and started to shake. Magus and Clip began to unload the stones from the chest and lay them around the moon stone. As the dusk deepened they waited. Normally at this stage Sylvie would be restless and full of wild tension but tonight she seemed calm, although she still trembled.

At last there was that expectant hush at the moment before moon rise. They looked out to sea at the spot exactly opposite where the sun had set, where the full moon would rise. With the warm breeze wafting her dress and hair, Sylvie’s arms began to rise slowly, like great angel wings. Her mouth opened, pouring forth the strange ethereal song. Both men stared, mesmerised by such unearthliness. Then Magus broke the spell.

‘Quick, let’s get her on the stone now before she runs off to dance.’

The two men lifted her up and placed her in the centre of the enormous disc. They stood on it together, one on either side of her, all three facing the sea. Sylvie’s song had been silenced the
moment she touched the stone and her wings had dropped. She stood transfixed, her eyes locked onto the horizon.

A soft pinkness appeared over the sea, turning the layer of low cloud draped along the horizon to flamingo-pink gold. Then there was a tiny sliver of deep pink which quickly grew. A strange noise came from Sylvie at the sight of the rising moon, a strangled mewing. Her trembling turned to a violent shuddering that racked her body, almost like a fit. Her hair rippled in silver waves, her eyes fixed wide open.

Then they felt the force coming up through the rock into their feet. It seemed as if the moon rock was moving beneath them, although they knew it couldn’t be. The quaking was so powerful they felt they might lose their balance and fall, and both jumped off the stone feeling a little frightened at the intensity. Sylvie was rooted in the centre as the moon bloomed before her, huge and deep red-pink, hanging over the silver sea. Her body juddered and jolted, her hair flying around her, and then they noticed the light. It chased itself around her in tiny worm-like strands, flickering all over before heading downwards into the rock beneath her feet.

‘I have never in all my journeys in this world or the Other, experienced anything remotely like this,’ whispered Clip in wonder. ‘It’s something you have to see to believe.’

‘Think of all that energy!’ hissed Magus. ‘This is much, much more powerful than last month and nothing’s been wasted on dancing this time. Shall we get her to hold the eggs now?’

‘No, I’d leave it for a bit,’ whispered Clip. ‘She’s shaking so much I think she’d drop them. And I’m not sure about you, but I don’t want to get close enough to touch her. She’s jerking like there’s ten thousand volts passing through her.’

The two men left her on the rock and sat down on the grass at a safe distance.

Yul, his back against the Hare Stone, watched the moon rise over the distant sea. The hares arrived from the long grass and the woods and started to run in a great circle around the stone,
marking out the spirals. Bats flickered in the deepening darkness and then the barn owl appeared silently. Huge white wings outstretched in ghostly flight, it glided from the woods towards the stone calling plaintively in the moonlight.

‘Oh Sylvie, why aren’t you here where you belong?’ whispered Yul, angrily wiping away the tears with the back of his hand. ‘Why aren’t you here with your creatures. Here with me?’

As the moon climbed higher and lost its pinkness, Sylvie’s violent jerking lessened, settling down to a deep trembling shudder. Her mewing sounds had ceased. She stood fixed to the spot where they’d placed her, still staring at the rising moon, the stone around her feet glowing a luminous blue-silver. Magus picked up two of the eggs and knelt on the stone, wincing as the powerful force shot up through his knees. He crawled across and put an egg in each of her hands, curling her fingers around them, then felt his way back off the stone.